Under a particular word, the better parts of us show up in a scene but if we can’t negotiate that, the low ceiling ends up being a catastrophe.
Ends up a boundary made from shame, frustration and surprise.
A longing for the kind of strength that seems to coast as an ally anywhere that we are not.
An enemy or the one that we feel that we are in the things that bind us.
And truth that comes to life not from happiness hating on us but the placement of moments guided by survival.
Because in being on this side of that word, where we are at is far more of a hellscape.
Under that same word, the better parts of us climb but if we can’t keep that footing, the trudging ends up being standard care.
Being movement that works for the perceived map but not necessarily for periods of continuous rain.
Stops that the audience ignores the importance of even the smallest of achievements.
Knowledge that weaves it way as nourishment but still receives messages from the weeds.
And truth that comes to life not from happiness hiding but distractions circling back around to affect the ecosystem of possibilities.
Because in being on this side of that word, all right is still tip-toeing around tweaking the shade.
Under that same word, the better parts of us are like magic but if we can’t hold that clarity, we can at least remember that there is more to the story.
That standing isn’t the same destabilizing action of the past.
Sitting is part of showing up in imperfect scenes.
Forgiveness is for us because love loves us anywhere and everywhere.
And truth that comes to life not because happiness makes it so but because its taken a lot to quiet the storms for the better.
Because in being on this side of that word, we can now see that it was never useless but that it looks more like us than what we had heard it should be.
An isle is a label with spaces for each of those hand-painted sections.
Spots for what our tears are made from, what we only occasionally deserve and something that is the key to bringing relief.
With open arms, that particular word has never required us to find ourselves before taking action in any of those places.
It doesn’t ask fear to avoid the areas nor negotiate happiness as a promise for its work.
And it doesn’t flounder in our hating on ourselves or getting turned around on long journeys.
But instead it breathes in the dark and rests in the light even when we don’t feel it there.
It never misses us because it’s colored on each of the pages.
And it never gets tired even when we spend extra time hiking in exhaustion along the way.
Because in being on either side of whatever word has been thought of, it’s still the one friend that an isle keeps for building whether its at the top of our list or not.
Have the best day, POSSIBLE for you. Love Always, Heavell
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